"Crazy girl" He hissed. "I can't believe she blew up the whole thing, that crazy little devil." He hissed again, walking up to the kitchen, pouring some water for himself. "She can die out there for all I care." He says to himself.
"I hope the cold eats up her tiny little bones." He mumbles again. "She deserves some kind of punishment. I can't keep on going easy on her." He tried telling himself, trying to justify his actions to no one but himself, trying hard to not imagine how much she'd be shivering out there, trying his best to not think of how she might be crying out there.
" I don't care, let her cry blood, let the cold kill her, I won't let her in." He kept on giving answers to questions that no one was asking. "I'll show her that I can be hard on her if I want to. I can discipline her if she does anything stupid like this ever again, I don't mind her tears at all. It doesn't affect me in any way." He lied to himself yet again, and again he felt the tug in his chest. The kind he always felt whenever he'd wronged her in any way. The kind of paining and poking feeling that never left until he made up with her.
And although he was holding tightly to the kitchen sink, trying to not walk to the window and check on her, trying his best to keep her out of his head, trying to force himself to be cruel and wicked to her…
He could not.
He could not stop himself from walking up to the window and looking at her, and he could not stop his heart from trembling with pity and reproach as he saw her seated on the sand, knees folded up to her chest, she wasn't even wearing anything. Just a sleeveless top, and shorts. He could see her shoulders tremble. "That crazy thing, she just had to go sit down right in front of the sea!" He hissed, instantly picking up a blanket from the room and rushing out of the house.
"Bad DK! Heartless Dark Knight, I won't talk to him ever again." But then she felt warm all of a sudden, she felt something wrap around her shoulders, and her entire system grow even warmer as he walked to her front and sat down in front of her, taking both her hands in his own, as if to hide them from the cold.
He took them close to his mouth, and breathed into her palm, gently rubbing them together, then breathing into them again, and rubbing them together again, repeating the motion, causing the warmth to soon reach every part of her body.
"You throw me out of the house, and now you're warming me up." She mumbles, but doesn't take her hand away from his. She loved his touch, he was warm, like a personal heater, and she loved the warmth he gave.
"Those wines were worth millions, don't you think you deserved some kind of punishment?" he finally looked up at her, and it was gone, that look that felt like lighting curbed in a jar, was gone. Now, once again he's eyes looked like the calm ripples of the sea, he wasn't angry anymore, and a slow smile curled up her lips as he drew the blanket over her body more, still warming up her hands in his.
"Why do you drink so much?" She blurts out, waiting for him to look up at her again and answer her honestly. She knew he was hurting, but the drinks really weren't doing him any good, the effects only lasted some hours, so why take such medicine for his pain when it wasn't even effective enough, it would only damage him later on. And she couldn't stand seeing him damaged.
"I really didn't want you to see me like this." He confesses. "I really wanted to be okay in front of you, but then you moved in with me, and you've seen how low I live my life." She could feel his hands tighten around hers, could feel the truth in his words, could see the pain in his eyes. Even his lashes were filled with sorrow.
"Why would you try to look okay in front of me? Because I'm just a little girl to you, and you didn't think I can handle this side of you?" She replied to her question, as he really didn't have an answer to that question. Maybe her answer was correct, or maybe not. "Why DK, why do you rely on the drinks? Why do you drink so much?"
"Because it helps me. It helps me dream good dreams, it helps me dream of her, it helps me see her. I can't help it, but the wine helps me sleep, Luna. I can't fall asleep on my own anymore. Without the drinks I just can't seem to find sleep. They help me fall asleep."
"And I only feel alive, when I dream at night, so hence the drinks."
"Marc Anthony __ When I dream at night." She says, and he laughs. She knew of a fact that he had created this illusion that he could be with the woman he longed for as long as he was drunk, but she didn't want to dwell on that fact tonight. It would hurt to do so.
"If sleep was your problem, then you shouldn't have tried to look fine in front of me. You shouldn't be relying on the drinks. Have you forgotten? I was your sleeping pill."
*
*
Chapter Epilogue.
Italy, February 2004.
"So what is the problem, doctor? Is he sick? Why can't he sleep? Ever since I brought him here, he hasn't closed his eyes for three hours straight, and that is bad for a child. Is it the house? Is it because he's not comfortable here?" Edoardo asked. It had been a whole week since the boy moved in with him, and throughout the whole week, he could barely eat, or sleep. He never says anything. The only person he seemed to talk to was Luna.
"Mr. DeFalco , I don't think it's the house. According to you, it is not his first time in this place, and he didn't find it hard sleeping, and eating all that time."
"Yes, but then his parents would come with him for a visit. But now__ now they are no more."
"Now that is it. I think he is still shaken up by his parents death. According to you, they were murdered right in the same house where he was. It's not easy for a twelve year old to wake up and find his parents brutally murdered. I think he's scared of falling asleep. The pictures of his dead parents still haunt his dreams."
"What do we do doctor, he can't go on like this. He was such a vibrant young man. But now he walks around like a ghost haunting the house. What can we do to bring back the stormy waves in his eyes? How can we help him doctor?"
"The boy refuses to go to the hospital, so that is out of the question, and he refuses to see me again too. We can't force him to do what he doesn't want to, that might only worsen his situation."
"What then doctor? What are we going to do? How are we going to help him?"
"Well, I'll keep coming here since he refuses to go to the hospital, he's too young to prescribe sleeping pills to, so I'll find a way to make him open up to me so I can help him with therapy."
Outside the door of the room, Luna stood listening to what they were saying, ready to go report back to her new favorite person in the house.